Beyond the Veil
by psyraven
Summary: Post-S3, Cordy has died as a result of her visions and Angel isn't coping. Wesley enlists Willow's assistance to help Angel say goodbye... but is there more to the ritual than meets the eye? Originally written in 2004 and posted to Stranger Things A/C
1. Chapter 1

Disclaimer: The characters in the Angelverse were created by Joss Whedon & David Greenwalt. No infringement is intended, no profit is made.

A/N: This story was originally published on Stranger Things under one of my old pen-names (Rio), way back in 2004 or 2005. I'm putting all my stories up here so I have them in one place - hopefully, it will help anyone trying to find my older stuff.

* * * * * * * *

"There's been no improvement, then?"

"No. If anything, he's getting worse. I don't know how much longer he can go on before, well, before he does something stupid."

"You don't really think he'd..."

Wesley sighed wearily. "I really don't know, Willow. All I know is I've reached the end of my tether and I thought perhaps, with your prior experience of dealing with this sort of thing..."

"I can't bring her back, Wesley," Willow looked down ruefully at the swirls of cream in her grand latte. "I learned my lesson last time. Some things just aren't meant to be meddled in. That way badness lies."

"I know, and I'm sure that, wherever she is, Cordelia is a great deal happier than she ever was in Los Angeles. But it's tearing him apart. If he could just see her, talk with her, even on the spiritual plane, perhaps it might help him find some measure of peace." The young Englishman looked troubled. "If he doesn't, badness will be the least of our troubles."

"But surely he has to be all happy-go-lucky for that to happen, right?" Willow asked, anxious to believe that there was no threat of Angelus. Once had been more than enough.

"Regrettably, no." Wesley took off his glasses and began to polish them on a napkin, in a gesture which reminded Willow poignantly of Giles. She didn't think Wes knew just how much he'd become like the older man. He probably wouldn't believe her if she told him. "Angel ceased to be Angelus because he gained a soul and a conscience. He got back his humanity, if you will. Now, I'm very much afraid he has lost it again. He no longer cares about anyone or anything. It's only a short step from that to actively hating the world again. About the best we can hope for is that he'll have the courage to stake himself before it reaches that point... or else one of the rest of us will have to."

"But you think seeing Cordy will help?" Willow was sceptical. She knew Angel and Cordelia had become close, working together in LA for so long. She found it hard to believe that her death could have hit him so hard, though, harder even than Buffy's had last year. For herself, her feelings about Cordy's death were confusing. A part of her kept refusing to deal with it. She hadn't exactly seen Cordy that much since she'd moved to LA, and it was easy to pretend that she was still there, just a phone call away. She'd always been so vibrant, so unassailable, even in kindergarten. It was hard to take in that someone so vivid could have been snuffed out at just twenty-one.

She looked over at Wesley. The toll it had taken on him was obvious. He'd not only lost one of his best friends, he'd had to hold the rest of their little band together in the wake of that tragedy. It couldn't have been easy for him.

"Yes," he said now, after a moment's thought. "I really believe it would help him." He shrugged and smiled ruefully. "He misses her so much."

"Alright," Willow said. "I'll do some research and see what I can come up with."

"Thank you, Willow. I really do appreciate this."

***

The hotel was silent, eerily so, when Wesley returned from his meeting with Willow. He looked around at the gloomy shadows of the lobby and thought, not for the first time, how they hadn't fully appreciated her light until they were plunged back into the darkness. Fred came down the stairs as he stood there, rapt in thought, the glass of blood in her hand untouched.

Noticing that, Wesley looked up at her. "He's still not eating properly?" It wasn't really a question. They all knew the distraught vampire consumed barely enough to stay alive these days.

Fred shook her head, her pretty face clearly concerned and showing signs of her own grief. She had bonded with Cordelia early on, idolising the other girl, envying her poise and style and the power she held over Angel's heart. Cordy, for her part, had more or less adopted the gauche young scientist, alternately mothering her and treating her like a makeover project. Some of her more avant garde fashion experiments still had a special place in Wesley's memories and he was pretty sure Gunn wouldn't be forgetting them any time soon, either. It wasn't only Angel who had lost something precious when their Seer had been taken from them. But right now he was the one who needed help the most.

Wesley tried to bury himself in work for the next couple of days, but it was difficult when there was so little work to bury himself in. With their warrior pretty much out of action these days, not to mention no visions to guide them, they were once again dependent on whatever wacked-out crazies walked through their door. Not that there weren't enough of those wandering around, but it was surprising how seldom they got around to paying. Angel didn't surface, of course, no doubt still holed up in his room drawing picture after picture of a certain dark-haired beauty. Wesley shook his head. It wasn't healthy. Obsessing over her to the exclusion of all else. It was, however, Wesley reluctantly admitted, definitely part of the Angel modus operandi. Obsessive was practically his middle name.

When the phone call came, it was something of a relief. "Angel Investigations. We help the helpless," he said automatically, feeling a twinge in his chest as he remembered Cordelia's habitual, even wilful, misreading of that motto.

"Wes? That you?"

"Yes. Willow? Have you found something?" He could hear the eagerness creeping into his voice, but was powerless to stop it.

"I think I might have. I also found someone who should be able to help. Can the two of us come round tomorrow night? Can you make sure Angel's there?"

Wesley cast a sardonic glance up the stairs. "I think that's pretty much a given. Do I need to prepare anything, obtain any potions or such?"

"No, it's okay. I've got everything we need. I just need you there, all the gang. As many people who knew Cordelia well as you can gather."

"I'll get right on it," Wesley said, hardly daring to hope that it might be possible.

"Tomorrow, then," Willow said. "See ya then."

"Indeed. Goodbye. And... thank you."

"Thank me after it works," Willow said, and he heard the click as she hung up the other end. He replaced the receiver and stared down at it for a moment.

"Oh, I will," he said softly. "We all will."

"So, you gonna tell us what we're all here for or what?" Gunn paced restlessly up and down the lobby, making Wesley feel dizzy just watching him.

"It's a sort of ceremony," he said vaguely. "Something to help Angel deal with his grief."

"You aint got no shrink comin' down here, I hope. 'Cause the dude's in bad enough shape without regressing him through his past as well."

"No shrink. Just an old friend." The bell rang and Wesley jumped up out of his seat. "I'll get it," he said, practically sprinting across to the door. Gunn and Fred exchanged a look.

"Honey, I know it's exciting to see me, but there's no need to pant, really," came the familiar sardonic tones from the doorway.

"Hey, Lorne," Fred called out.

"Hello, sugar. My, my, the gang's all here," the flamboyant demon said as he sauntered in. "What is this? A party?"

"Ask Wesley," Gunn said. "It's a big ole secret from us lesser beings."

"Really, Gunn, there's no need to get all snooty about..."

"Hey, I aint never got snooty in my life. That's your department, English."

"Boys!" Fred said, injecting a warning tone into her voice that made the two men turn to look at her in astonishment and Lorne break into a grin.

"Looks like you picked up more from the princess than just her fashion tips, sweetheart. Love that whole forceful vibe you got going there."

Fred blushed. "Well, they were being childish," she said.

"Get used to it. That's pretty much what guys do," Willow said, watching from the open door with some amusement.

"Willow," Wesley said, a little embarrassed at being caught on the hop, so to speak. "I didn't hear you arrive."

"Obviously," she said, before turning to usher in a little old lady with bright red hair and a turquoise spandex jumpsuit. The group did a collective double take. "Guys, this is Madame Fleur. She's a professional medium."

"A medium what?" Gunn whispered to Fred. "That mama's an extra large if ever I saw one."

"Hush," Fred said, standing on his foot.

"Hello, darlings," said Madame Fleur, mincing into the centre of the room on impossibly high-heeled sandals. "Which one of you delightful little boys is Angel? Oh, please tell me it's the cute little green one in the sharp suit," she said, turning to Willow. "No? Oh, well, never mind. You can hold my hand later anyway," she said, reaching over and pinching his cheek as he watched her in bemused silence.

Gunn sniggered. "I think that's the first time I ever saw the Incredible Hulk here lost for words." Wesley covered his mouth and coughed as he tried not to smile at the demon's gobsmacked expression. They certainly didn't have little old ladies like Fleur in Pylea.

"Angel's not here yet, Ms. Fleur. I was planning to go and fetch him down once we're ready to proceed." He shot an anxious glance at the upper balcony. "Frankly, I'm not sure how he'll react to this idea, and it might be wise to present him with a fait accompli, as it were."

"Of course, sugar-pie. Won't take us long to set up, anyhow. Willow here knows what to do, right, dear?"

"Sure thing, Madame Fleur. I'll start getting the stuff out." She was walking over to the bag she'd brought in even as she spoke, and started pulling out candles and bowls and various bags of unknown substances. A mere ten minutes later she'd transformed the lobby of the Hyperion into something out of a gothic film. A circle of candles had been placed around the room, and sprinkled with some strange powder that made them glow pale blue and smell like trees after the rain. In the centre of the room stood a sort of shallow cauldron on a collapsible stand. This contained a mixture of holy water and various oils and would be lit just before they started the ritual.

Fred had watched transfixed as the overhaul took place and now she stared at the finished picture in amazement.

"Are those magic candles?" she whispered in awe to Madame Fleur who stood nearby watching Willow make some final adjustments.

"What? Oh, no, sweetie, they're just regular old candles from a regular old hardware store. The truth is," she said, lowering her voice conspiratorially, "all this," she waved her hands around to encompass the various occult paraphernalia, "isn't strictly necessary. True magic comes from within and doesn't need any trappings and such, but it keeps Willow here happy and it does look awfully pretty, doesn't it?" Fred stared after her as she teetered off on those gravity-defying heels.

"There's something strange going on here," she muttered to herself. "I just wish I knew what it was..."


	2. Chapter 2

Wesley braced himself before he knocked on the door before him. As he expected, there was no answer to his knock, so he opened the door anyway. The room beyond looked like it had been at the centre of a blizzard. Papers littered every available surface, the bed was rumpled, the sheets twisted into knots. At the desk in the corner, by the light of a single dim lamp, a figure hunched over his latest work, pencil scratching away feverishly. Wesley felt the pity well up in him like a flood. He only hoped that, after tonight, his friend would start to heal. Otherwise... well, he'd sworn he wouldn't think about that.

"Angel..."

"I told you I didn't want to be disturbed, Wesley. Which part of that didn't you get?" The voice was husky from lack of use and, probably, tears.

"I need you to come downstairs," Wesley began, somewhat hesitantly. Damn, this wasn't going to be easy.

Angel looked over his shoulder slightly before uttering a quick, curt, "No."

"Please, Angel. You won't regret it." He decided reluctantly that he would have to tell him the truth. It was probably the only thing that would get him out of his suite. "I think I may have found a way for you to see Cordelia."

The hush that descended as the pencil ceased its scratching was total. Wesley held his breath as he waited for his friend's reaction.

"What?" The word was soft, hesitant, and gave him hope.

"There's a lady downstairs, an acquaintance of Willow's, who can enable you to speak with Cordelia, to make your peace, as it were. I, er, thought you would appreciate the chance to say a proper goodbye."

"Did you ask Willow to bring Cordy back?"

Wesley was shocked at the question. "Of course not. She wouldn't have done it, anyway. After Buffy..."

"Oh, yes, Buffy," Angel's voice dripped bitterness now. "She gets a second chance, another go at life, but my Cordy has to..." He clenched his fist and hit the desk, making Wesley jump. Then he stood slowly and turned to face his unfortunate friend. "I'll be able to see her, speak to her... touch her?"

"I can't vouch for the last, but see and hear, yes."

"Then I'll come down," Angel said, striding past Wesley, who swiped a weary hand over his eyes and prayed this wouldn't turn out to be the biggest mistake he ever made.

* * * * * * * *

The common reaction among the group as Angel descended the stairs into the lobby was shock. None of them had ever seen the vampire looking anything but well-groomed, even when covered in blood and demon guts. Now he looked like he was coming apart at the seams. His hair was longer, almost down to his shoulders, straggly and unkempt. His face was gaunt and seemed so pale it was almost translucent. Even his shoulders were bowed, as if he carried a burden that he was too tired to bear any more. Seeing him like this rocked the foundations of their world.

"What are you all staring at?" he said, fixing them with a glare that could have stripped paint.

"Nothing," muttered a half-dozen voices.

"I believe they were staring at you, sweetie-pie," said a strange woman in an outfit that would have set Cordy's teeth on edge in seconds. Angel felt the familiar ache that thoughts of her always provoked... and he thought of her several hundred times a day. "You're quite a sight for sore eyes," the woman continued, blithely ignoring his death-stare. She sidled up to him and patted him on the cheek, no easy task for one of her height. "I'm here to help you, dear," she said, "but you have to be willing to let me." As he stared into eyes as green as grass and as old as time, he realised he had no choice. He'd do anything to see Cordy again. Anything. The old woman smiled slowly and nodded. "Fair enough. Let's see what we can do then, shall we?"

He allowed himself to be drawn into a circle around some weird bowl thing, which Willow chanted over before setting alight. The demon in him drew back warily from the fire; the human craved it desperately. Anything to chase out the bone-deep chill he'd lived with since that awful day. Fred took his right hand, smiling up at him encouragingly, and the little old woman who called herself by the unlikely name of Fleur took his left. The others took up their own positions, linking hands and sitting down.

"Look into the flames and try to relax," Fleur said, her voice low and hypnotic. Angel fought against the suggestion for a moment, before allowing himself to drift. The flames were awfully pretty, all green and amber and rose. He remembered Cordy wearing a top in amber and rose once. It was this sheer, little thing, clung to every...

The world swirled about him suddenly, making him feel queasy. The colours were too bright and getting brighter all the time. It was like sunshine; the panic rose up in him. He shut his eyes, trying to blot it out. He needed to get inside, find shelter. Then the panic was gone, as quickly as it had arose. He felt nothing but peace and calm as he opened his eyes to pure white mist. Then he heard a voice:

"Boy, have you let yourself go, or what?"

He smiled, his heart already soaring. "Cordy?"

"Who else? You know, you didn't have to prove you care about me by dispensing with personal hygiene. A simple rending of garments would have done just fine. Maybe a little wailing and brooding; you're good at that part."

He stared into the mist, trying to see where the voice was coming from. It seemed to be all around him, and his sense of direction was askew.

"I'm right here, doofus," Cordy said, materialising in front of his dazed eyes. God, she looked good. Even dressed in some white, drapy thing that she probably wouldn't have been caught dead... he stopped the thought, refusing to think of her that way. Her eyes were shining and her expression was one of fond exasperation and damn, but he'd missed just looking at her face.

It didn't matter how many times he tried to capture her likeness with pencil or paint. Cordy was too vibrant to ever come to life in a still picture. He drank her in greedily, shoring up the memories against the darkness he would have to return to.

"You look good," he said, feeling unaccountably shy in her presence.

"Well, duh. What else am I gonna spend my time on around here. I mean, great with the peace and the tranquility but, between you and me, it's a little dull." She shrugged one shoulder. "Guess that's what comes of hanging out at Demon Central for so long."

"We miss you," he said. "I... miss you."

"I know," she said, smiling at him. "I miss you too. I think of something and turn round to tell you, but you're not there. You're never there." They stood staring at each other for a moment, both afraid to look away. "So, how did you get here, anyway?"

"Willow helped. Some kind of seance, I think." His mind was a little fuzzy on the details.

Cordy wrinkled her nose. "Are you sure? 'Cause I always thought the spirit was supposed to visit the mortal plane with those things, not the other way round."

Angel frowned. "You're right. They must have done something else." He looked around again, trying to discern where they were. "What exactly is this place, anyway? Is this heaven? 'Cause I find it hard to believe they'd let a vampire in, even on a day pass..."

"Well, of course they would," Cordelia said indignantly. "After all you've done for the PTB, the least they could do is let you into the big house at the end of it all." She noticed Angel's amusement and flushed slightly. "Well, they should," she muttered.

"So this is heaven?" he mused.

"Well, actually, I'm not exactly sure. I mean, it's got the whole white light, peace and good will thing going for it, but from what I can tell, there aren't a whole lot of other people round here. They let me out occasionally to do the floaty thing and spy on you guys..."

Angel started guiltily.

"Yeah, I've seen that pig sty you call a room and, may I just say? So glad it's Fred clearing up your mess and not me. But the pictures... they're pretty good."

"They don't do you justice," Angel said, then watched with interest as she blushed. "So they let you out, huh?"

"Sometimes, when I look like I'm about to start climbing the walls, which is tricky when there are no walls but, hey, I've always been the persistent sort." She grinned impishly at him and he found himself grinning back. "So, are you gonna tell me why you've gone all Heathcliff instead of getting on with your life?"

Angel's grin faded. "I tried, Cordy. I knew you'd want me to, so I tried. But, I didn't know it would hurt this bad. I mean, I know pain. I've been on the giving and receiving end of enough of it to count myself an authority, but this... it's like someone ripped my heart right out of my chest so there's just this gaping hole. And it won't heal, Cordy..."

"Shh, honey," she said, eyes welling up as she watched his anguish. She pressed her fingers to his lips without thinking and felt their cool touch in astonishment.

Angel's eyes widened and he brought his hand up to capture hers. "I can feel you," he said, mesmerized. "You're real, solid."

Cordy shook her head in disbelief. "I don't understand..." she began before his mouth pressed hungrily against hers. She stiffened in shock for a moment, before moaning softly and pressing herself closer against him. She could feel his body tight against hers, but it still wasn't close enough. She hadn't ever thought she would feel anything like this again. Who was she kidding? she thought in bemused ecstasy. She'd never felt anything like this. Ever.

Angel's hands trailed up her back to tangle in her hair, as he kissed her with a fervent desperation. She tried to pull away slightly, to gather her reeling senses, but he started trailing feather-light kisses across her face and down the side of her neck and her concentration scattered like butterflies on the breeze.

"We shouldn't... mustn't..." she gasped.

"I have to," he whispered, bringing his lips back to hover over hers as his eyes burned into her with a fevered longing that made her shiver inside. "I don't know how long I may have with you until this spell wears off. I can't waste a single moment." He kissed her again, softly, almost reverently. "If you only knew how many times I've dreamed of doing this..." He slanted his mouth across hers, turning the kiss soul-deep and Cordelia stopped trying to protest. Maybe this was heaven, after all.

* * * * * * * *

"I suppose you had something to do with this." The voice was primly disapproving. "The situation has your influence written all over it."

"Doesn't look like they needed much influencing to me," said the woman sometimes known as Fleur, watching the couple locked in a passionate embrace a few feet away. "Besides, Malachi honey, where's your sense of romance? You've been up here communing with the clouds too long. You've forgotten what it's like to be young and in love."

"I'm not sure I ever knew," said the man called Malachi, his eyes also fixed on the entwined pair. "But I do know this can only end badly. They are no longer of the same world."

"Oh, I don't know. 'There are more things in heaven and earth, Horatio...'"

"Oh, please don't quote that jumped-up little playwright at me. You know I never could stand the fellow. Talentless little oik." Malachi sniffed contempuously. "Next you'll be telling me that this is all part of some grand ineffable plan."

Fleur just stood there and flashed him a cheeky smile.

"Oh, you have got to be kidding me." Malachi stared at her, incredulous. "I'd sooner believe it was you getting up to your old meddling ways. Didn't you learn anything from that Camelot fiasco?"

"I'll have you know that was going just fine until Gwynnie got all indecisive," Fleur said defensively. "Besides, this time – to paraphrase those bottom-dwellers at Wolfram & Hart – the 'senior partners' have got involved."

Malachi looked troubled. "They're that important?"

"Honey, they're everything. Not to sound too dramatic here, but the fate of the world depends on them. They have to be ready." She looked on with some amusement as the vampire and his seer began to peel items of clothing off each other, barely breaking contact to do so. She grabbed Malachi's arm and tugged him away. "Well, they're ready for something, anyway. Let's leave them in peace. We have work to do."

* * * * * * * *

Cordelia lay enclosed in the circle of Angel's strong arms, truly content for the first time in as long as she could remember. It had been worth dying for, she thought whimsically, as she trailed her fingers lazily down his chest. Looking up into his eyes, she saw that passion still burned there; passion and a longing so intense it took her breath away. For the first time, she thought about how hard it must have been for a man like Angel to live like a monk.

"What are you thinking about?" he asked softly, smiling at her as he reached to comb a lock of hair behind her ear.

"You and your old eunuchy ways," Cordelia answered automatically without thinking, and was surprised to feel him start to chuckle. "What?"

"I think I've finally proved pretty conclusively that I'm not a eunuch."

"Fair point," she mumbled into his chest, before kissing it gently since she was there anyway. She felt his muscles tense and gloried briefly in this power she held over him, before he flipped her over and pinned her to the ground. He growled playfully at her, and she felt a thrill as his lips descended to her neck, suckling gently at the sensitive point where it met her shoulder. She closed her eyes and reached up to hold his head there, wanting him to continue the sweet torture, but her hands found nothing but air. Her eyes shot open in dismay and she looked around her frantically, calling his name, but there was no answer. Tears of frustration spilled over her cheeks as she sat huddled forlornly on the floor.

"Angel..."


	3. Chapter 3

One moment he could feel the warmth of Cordelia's enticing curves sliding against his own skin, the next he fell down on to the cold, hard ground, alone. He closed his eyes against the familiar pain. If anything it was worse to lose her this time, now that he had truly loved her, made his dreams a reality. He wanted to roar out his grief, give his demon full sway, but he knew Cordy wouldn't approve. More than anything he hated to disappoint her. He looked around dully at the swirling mist, wondering how long it would be before the spell, or whatever it was, yanked him back into his bleak reality. Maybe it had all been just a dream, the fevered yearnings of a tortured soul...

No, he could still smell her perfume on his skin. He inhaled deeply, hints of sandalwood, vanilla and something else that was uniquely Cordy. He let out the breath in a helpless sigh.

"Are you done feeling sorry for yourself yet?" a voice floated out of the mist.

Angel leapt to his feet, instantly alert. "Who's there? Show yourself."

"I think you're showing enough for the both of us," the voice observed wryly. Angel looked down and realised he was still naked. He grabbed his pants and yanked them on impatiently.

"Happy now?" he said from between clenched teeth. "Who are you and what have you done with Cordy?"

"She's safe. We just needed to talk to you alone."

Angel scowled. He had a bad feeling about this. "What about?"

"About Cordelia. And just how far you're willing to go to get her back."

Angel stood in shocked silence. Get her back? Have his Cordy returned to him? There had to be a catch...

"I'll do whatever it takes," he said slowly. "But then you already know that, right?"

"Possibly. You have certainly shown a sense of noble self-sacrifice at some fairly inopportune moments in the past. The Darla debacle, for instance. We nearly didn't manage to fix that one in time. As it is, we had to give you the child in return for your sacrifice. The rules of the Trial are quite firm in that respect."

Angel clenched his fists by his side. "Yeah, and then you took him right back off me again. I still haven't forgiven you for that. In fact, why don't you come out here so I can hit you?"

"It was necessary," the voice said solemnly. "He was too important to risk in the cross-fire of your crusade. Those you fight would not hesitate to use him to get to you. Never fear, warrior – his time will come."

"So, how do I know you wouldn't take Cordy right back again as well? Why should I trust you people when you've never given me any reason to?"

"The resurrection would be complete. She would be your responsibility to protect, and though others may try to take her from you, we would not."

"Then what do I have to do?" Angel said. "What's the price?"

"The same as in the Trial. An eye for an eye, a life for a life."

"I don't have a life, remember?" Angel said through gritted teeth. "I'm already dead."

"But someday you will live again," the voice reminded him, "according to the prophecy." It paused for a moment, allowing him to reflect. "That is the price we ask. You must be willing to surrender your chance at reaching shanshu. In return for her life, you must give up all hope of ever having one of your own."

Angel closed his eyes. His dream. He wouldn't be able to see the sun, to have a family, grow old... But Cordy would, and that was more important. "I'll do it," he said. "Just bring her back. Please."

* * * * * * * *

"Don't cry, sweetie. It'll all seem better in the morning."

Cordelia raised her head and stared through her tears at the peculiar figure standing next to her. The woman appeared to be around late middle-age and she wore a toga-y type of thing in white. Her hair, however, was a vivid stop-light red. She was holding out a similar robe to Cordy, who took it with a sad little laugh. "How am I supposed to tell the difference?" she said. "There is no day and night here. Just endless, monotonous, foggy whiteness."

"Do you miss the sun?" the woman asked.

Cordy nodded, draping the toga around herself. "Yeah. I never really thought about it until I didn't get to see it any more. Angel must miss it every day." She sniffled a little at the thought of the vampire, before swiping a hand across her eyes and sternly applying the poised Cordy facade. She walked over to the woman. "Do I know you?" she asked pointedly.

"Oh, no, honey. Friend of a friend, you might say." The woman had a mischievous twinkle in her grass-green eyes and Cordelia had the peculiar feeling she wasn't in on the joke, whatever it was. "You and I need to have a little chat."

"Uh-huh," Cordy said. "About what exactly? No, let me guess. About how you let me have a glimpse of true heaven, just so you could rip it away from me and send me back to The Unbearable Whiteness of Being here?"

"Well, it's sort of in that general area, yes," the woman said, with a worried frown wrinkling her pale brow. "In that it's about you and the hunky vampire."

"What about us?"

"Well, what would you say to the thought of going back?"

"Back? To LA? To Angel? Alive?"

"All of the above," the woman smirked.

"Well, of course I... woah, woah, wait a minute there. I know how this works." Cordy jabbed a finger towards the woman. "What's the catch? There's gonna be a loophole somewhere, isn't there? Like, maybe, I get to go back but only for one day every hundred years or something, like that little Irish town..."

"If you mean Brigadoon, dearie, I think you'll find it's Scottish..." the woman ventured.

"Whatever," Cordy said, waving a hand dismissively. "Is that sort of thing likely to happen here? 'Cause not loving the idea."

"Don't worry. Your return would be permanent." The woman paused and looked at Cordy with her disconcertingly direct stare. "There is a condition, however."

"Ha, I knew it," Cordy muttered.

"In return for the gift of your life, Angel has to be willing to sacrifice his own chance at life as a human."

Cordy gaped at the red-haired woman. "What? Are you kidding me? You can't ask him to do that! He's damn well earned that reward! And there's no way in Hell," she cast a quick glance skywards, "sorry!... that I'm ever gonna let you take it away from him. It's my life, so I should be the one making the sacrifice. Angel's made enough of them for you people as it is."

"Then you would rather stay here?"

Cordy looked down at her bare feet, peeking out from under her robe. She hated it here, hated the monotony and the dreary sameness stretching out into eternity. She wanted bright colours, strong flavours, the wind in her hair... and Angel in her arms. She closed her eyes and she could almost feel how it had been to be so close to him. If she did this, she would most likely never see him again. He would continue to fight the good fight, attain his reward, maybe even get married and have a bunch of little dark-eyed rugrats. Oh, god, it hurt to think of him having all that with someone else, but it hurt more to think of depriving him of that chance, that future. She just couldn't do that to him.

"Yes," she said quietly. "I'd rather stay here." She looked up at the woman, who was watching her with an air of quiet melancholy. "But, please, can I at least see him once more? Get a chance to say a proper goodbye? We just... we never had that."

The woman regarded her closely for a moment and then nodded. Cordy almost sagged in relief. "Alright. You can have one day together. Twenty-four hours and then we do our worst."

"Thank you," Cordy said, going over and gripping the woman's hands impulsively. "You don't know what this means..."

"Oh, I think I have a vague idea," Fleur said, smiling faintly.

* * * * * * * *

"Ain't nobody else the least bit suspicious?" Gunn muttered, glaring over at the self-proclaimed medium who was deep in conversation with Willow. "How do we know this whacko's who she says she is? She could be working with the evil lawyers for all we know."

"Do you really think I haven't thought of that?" Wesley replied testily. "But Willow seems to trust her and, until we have evidence to the contrary, we'll just have to do the same."

"Seems to me like making Angel vanish into thin air's evidence enough," Fred ventured to suggest. She rubbed her left hand uneasily. "Gave me chills, don't mind tellin' ya."

"Are you all right?" Wesley was instantly solicitous. "It must have been extremely unsettling for you."

"I'm fine. Ain't the strangest thing I've seen, ya know."

"Yeah, well, it's still pretty high up there on the strange-ometer," Gunn said, "and I'm tired of pretending nothing's gone down here." With that he strode off towards Fleur, with Wesley and Fred scurrying along behind. "Yo, lady! You wanna tell us where you whooshed our friend off to?"

Fleur exhibited a complete lack of surprise at the young man's outburst. "I'm afraid I'm not at liberty to tell you that," she said, "but he's with his young lady and quite safe."

"Young lady? You mean Cordelia?" Wes asked. Fleur nodded. "But how is that possible? I don't understand how his physical body could be transported to such a place..." he trailed off, considering the ramifications.

"You'll understand eventually," the old woman replied, not unkindly.

"I'm sure it'll be fine," Willow said. "Fleur promised me that nothing bad will happen to him there. In fact, he'll be back here real soon."

"Indeed," Fleur said, checking her watch. "Very soon, actually. We'd better resume our positions. Don't want anything to interfere with the process."

"What happens if something interferes with the process?" Fred asked warily, not sure she really wanted to know the answer.

"Oh, reality as we know it will cease to exist," Fleur said chirpily. "But don't worry, that almost never happens."

Wes, Fred and Gunn exchanged a look and walked back over to their original positions. The group joined hands again, all except Fred and Fleur who left a space for Angel between them.

"Incende," Fleur said and the bowl in the centre of the circle lit up once more with an eerie blue-green light, making them all jump.

"Did you see how she...?" Gunn whispered.

"No idea," Wesley said. "Just pretend you didn't notice."

"Concentrate please, boys," Fleur admonished them and they subsided into silence, only the flicker of the flames penetrating the discomforting hush. They sat there for long minutes, afraid to twitch so much as a muscle in case it threw off the spell. Just when they were almost squirming with the need to move, a cold wind blew through the room, raising goose-bumps on their skin and sending shivers down their spines. Scared to open their eyes, they sat frozen until Fleur spoke again. "You can look now," she said, and they did.

In the centre of the circle, where the bowl had been, there was a familiar dark-haired figure in a white robe. She was huddled almost into a ball but there was no mistaking who she was and the group inhaled collectively in shock. All but one.

Returned to his position within the circle, Angel opened his eyes and gazed upon the woman he loved. Rising and crossing to the place where she lay, he knelt before her and stroked her hair, willing her to look at him. When she did, it was as if his heart started to beat again. He smiled at her bemused expression before clasping her face gently between his hands and kissing her tenderly, uncaring of the curious looks from the others.

"Okay, is everybody else seeing what I'm seeing?" Gunn whispered. "The princess is back from the dead and making out with the friendly neighbourhood vampire?"

"It would appear so," Wesley said, a smile playing at the corners of his mouth. "It's really rather romantic, isn't it?"

Fred sighed heavily. "Moira," she said, in tones of great satisfaction.

"Come again?" Gunn shot her a confused look.

"Never mind."

* * * * * * * *

Cordelia kept her eyes tightly closed as the wind blew around her, afraid of what she would see if she opened them. Then it died down and she heard the astonished murmurs from all around her and she still couldn't bring herself to open her eyes just in case it was all a dream.

It was the gentle hand stroking her hair that brought her out of her self-imposed cocoon. She'd recognise that touch anywhere – no one else could make her tingle right down to her toes. She looked up slowly and saw his glorious smile before he bent down and kissed her.

It was a chaste kiss compared to the heated embraces they had shared in heaven, purgatory or whatever that place had been, and yet Cordelia felt it right down to her soul. If she'd been of a fanciful turn of mind, she'd have thought he was bringing her back to life with that kiss, like in a fairy tale. But she was no Sleeping Beauty and the spell was due to kick in again in just twenty-four little hours. No matter what the prince might do.

But she refused to think about that now. She had one whole day to spend with the man she loved – yeah, there was no point in pretending any more that she wasn't in love with him – and she was determined to make enough memories to last through eternity. God knew she'd need something to get her through the dreary monotony.

She opened her eyes again and stared into that beloved face, the eyes searching her expression anxiously. She grinned up at him, determined he wouldn't know until he absolutely had to. She wasn't going to give him a chance to barter away his chance for happiness.

He smiled then, obviously relieved to see she was okay. His hands were still on her face, stroking her as if he couldn't believe she was real. She brought her own hands up to grasp his and held them tight. "Hi, honey," she said, with a whimsical little laugh. "I'm home."


	4. Chapter 4

Angel felt like laughing out loud and that didn't happen very often. He couldn't believe it had worked. She was really here, whole and alive and wonderful. They could have their chance together, finally. Somehow they'd find a way around the curse and his immortality, he just knew it. There was nothing they couldn't do together. Now, he just had to work out a way of telling her what he'd given up to get her back. He had a hunch she wouldn't be too happy about that.

Damn it, she'd been even more thrilled at the prospect of his shanshu than he was. But he'd make her understand. He had to. His life wouldn't be any kind of reward if she wasn't there to share it with him.

It was at once the most beautiful and the most tragic day of her life. Either of them.

Angel was attentive and openly affectionate, even in front of the others. She hadn't realised how tactile vampires normally were, with the distance that Angel had always imposed to protect himself and his feelings. That distance was gone now. Every few seconds he seemed to feel the need to run his fingers through her hair or touch her shoulder, stroke her hand... kiss her. And she... well, she soaked up the attention like thirsty ground, blossoming under his care, his love. For whole minutes she could even blot out the thought of how this would all end, and how soon.

The others tactfully withdrew after the hugs and greetings, Wesley and Fred with tears in their eyes as they told her how much they'd missed her. Even Gunn hugged her tightly and seemed more than a little choked up as he cracked some joke about her looking pretty good for a dead chick. Cordelia was surprised to find herself near tears as well. With the whole situation with Angel, she had almost forgotten how much she had missed the rest of their strange little family as well. It wasn't only his life she had touched, she realised now, and the discovery humbled her a little.

Left alone with Angel, she sighed heavily. "I'd forgotten what it was like," she said sadly.

Angel looked confused for a moment before he realised what she meant. "The guys? They all really missed you. Of course, they didn't go off the rails and turn into a hermit, but then I've always been a trendsetter."

Cordy chuckled, appreciating his attempt to lighten the mood. "Yeah, you're a real fashion icon." She moved closer to him and slid her arms around his neck, savouring the freedom to touch him as much as she wanted. "But enough with the heavy, broody stuff. How d'you want to spend our first day as a couple?"

"A couple of what? Ow," he said as she slapped his shoulder. "What? I can't make a joke? I'm happy." Cordelia looked up into that familiar face, sporting one of the cheesiest grins she'd ever seen (and she'd dated Xander, for crying out loud), and realised he meant it. She'd done that to him. Brought him happiness.

"I'm serious," she said, leaning up to kiss him softly and feeling her knees buckle as he kissed her back.

"I have an idea or two," he whispered, pulling back slightly to study her face, before making her yelp with surprise as he swept her off her feet and made for the stairs.

"Wow," Cordy said breathlessly. "That vampire speed sure comes in handy at the darnedest times, huh?" Angel's only response was a wolfish grin that made her heart do flip-flops.

In what seemed like seconds he was slamming the door of his room closed behind them and laying her down on the bed, following her down and continuing where he'd left off earlier. Cordelia closed her eyes and let her hands roam over his strong body, unfastening clothes wherever they got in her way. She let her other senses focus, relishing the rustle of clothing and the faint, familiar scent she associated with Angel, the feel of his cool, smooth, skin under her fingertips, the taste of his lips as they kissed her with almost feverish passion.

When she opened her eyes again, he was braced above her on strong arms, his eyes focused on her face with an intensity that awed her. She reached up to touch his face and he turned his head slightly to place a kiss in her palm. She smiled, for this one moment in time as happy as she had ever been in her life.

"I love you."

"I love you, too. Always."

Later - much later - they slept, sated and content, and when Cordelia woke the sun was going down once more, gilding the sky with streaks of amber and gold. She rose quietly from the bed and crossed to the window, pulling the drapes slightly back so she could watch her final sunset without disturbing the vampire who still slept in the shadows. It was amazing the sort of new perspective you got on the most common-place things, once you had been without them for a while. The world was fresh and new to her now, filled with ordinary miracles.

As the final colours streaked across the horizon and the last sliver of gold dipped out of sight, she felt two arms come around her waist and a cool body press against her back. She leaned back, saying nothing, content to enjoy this moment of connection. There would be time enough to tell Angel that she had to leave again. They had at least a couple of hours left to be together.

* * * * * * * *

Angel wasn't sure why Cordelia had insisted on coming downstairs again. They'd had a magical day together, unable to get enough of each other, and already he couldn't wait to get her back into bed again. But she had made him get dressed and dragged him down here where the others were once again gathered, looking as bemused as he felt. All except Fleur, who had a serious look on her normally cheerful face. As he watched her, Angel felt a peculiar foreboding, as if someone had just walked across his grave – in his case, a literal possibility. He clutched Cordy's hand a little tighter, needing the reassurance that the contact gave him. She was here, she was real, he hadn't imagined the whole thing...

"You're probably all wondering what this is about," she said. "There's something I have to tell you. I..." She looked over at Angel and bit her lip as her eyes filled with anguish. "Damn, this is hard," she whispered.

"Perhaps I can help," Fleur said, stepping forward. Cordelia looked relieved and clung to Angel's side as he wrapped his arms around her protectively. "As you might expect, Cordelia's return could not be achieved without some sort of sacrifice."

"So, what? We talking a live chicken or something here?" Gunn said.

"Hush, Charles," Fred admonished him, her brow furrowed with worry. "This is serious."

"Rather more than that, I'm afraid," Fleur said. "Angel had to sacrifice his right to shanshu, condemning himself to eternity as a vampire, and destroying any hope of a normal life with the woman he loves."

Angel's arms tightened convulsively around Cordy until she gasped, making him relax his hold slightly.

"However," Fleur continued, "as was her right, Cordelia refused the sacrifice." She ignored the gasps of disbelief from her audience and Angel's shocked "No". "She was willing to spend eternity in purgatory rather than deprive Angel of his dream, but she did ask for one day to remember him by. Her wish was granted."

"Cordy, please," Angel begged, imploring her with every ounce of his being to deny the woman's words, to tell him that of course she would stay with him...

"I couldn't do it, Angel. I couldn't ask you to give up your shanshu for me." Tears ran down Cordelia's face, as she felt his pain along with her own. "You'll see some day. This is for the best. You'll move on and find someone else."

"No, I won't. I didn't manage to find anyone else I loved like this in two hundred and fifty years." He saw her mouth open to speak and spoke fiercely, "And don't even think of mentioning Buffy. You and I both know that what we have goes beyond that, beyond what most people ever have. How could you give that up so easily?"

"Easily?" Cordelia was incredulous. "You think this is easy? You think it isn't ripping me apart inside to leave you. Maybe we'd even be deliriously happy for a while – stranger things have happened – but how long before you started resenting me for taking your chance at redemption away from you? I couldn't stand it if you ended up hating me for it."

Angel wiped the tears from her cheeks. "I could never hate you, Cordy. The truth is my redemption is meaningless if I don't have you to live for. It would be easier just to give up..."

"Don't you dare," she said fiercely. "You've come too far, accomplished too much, to just throw it all away like last season's cast offs. I won't let you."

"You won't be here to stop me."

"I'll find a way. It'll take more than death to stop me interfering in your life, you know."

"If the two of you would let me finish," Fleur interrupted, waiting until the pair had stopped glaring at each other, noticing that even while angry with each other they stayed close together. "Bringing a soul back from beyond the veil cannot be undertaken lightly, so the Powers are reluctant to do so unless absolutely necessary and, even then, only when those involved pass certain tests of... selflessness."

Cordelia frowned. "I don't understand."

"I do," growled Angel. "You were testing us, weren't you? You and your friends and that guy with the plummy accent. It was all an elaborate game – watching us suffer like this, go through hell..."

"It was necessary."

"It was cruel. And I think it's time you were straight with us. What exactly is the situation here? Is Cordy alive or not?"

"She is," Fleur said. "But she is changed." She looked at Cordy then and her gaze softened in sympathy. "I'm sorry for all you have suffered, dear, but you were never meant to die. A miscalculation some time ago had repercussions that we didn't bargain on. The Powers have work for you still, and they have taken steps to ensure your continued service. They tend to be a little autocratic that way." She smiled at them both, knowing their experience of the Powers had not been conducive to trust. "You will retain your seer's gifts, but you will be stronger now, better able to withstand the trauma of the visions. Also, you will not age in the same way as regular humans. We all live as long as we need to, and you and Angel have a long crusade ahead of you, but you will share the journey together."

"You mean I'm immortal?" Cordelia asked.

"No. You can still be killed by a mortal blow, as indeed can Angel. Neither of you are invulnerable. But you will no longer need to worry about dying from sickness or old age, or from the visions as you did once before."

Angel was the first to realise precisely what the implications of this momentous news were. "Then, she isn't going anywhere?" he said, starting to smile.

"Not for quite some time, I would hope," Fleur confirmed. "We didn't go to all this trouble for nothing."

"Angel! Put me down!" Cordelia laughed as he swept her up in a bear hug and started whirling her round the room until she felt dizzy. She gazed lovingly up at him as he held her tightly. "You big doofus!"

He grinned. "Guilty as charged. But I'm your big doofus..." And he pulled her into his arms and kissed her exuberantly, until she was giddy and giggling helplessly.

"Oh, that's just beautiful," sighed Willow, dabbing her eyes with a handkerchief before handing it over to Fred who was sniffling indelicately at her side.

"Every fairy tale needs a happy ending," agreed Fred, sobbing happily into the soggy hanky.

"Ain't no need for all this wailing, woman," Gunn complained. "Sure it's nice and everything, but..."

"Is that a tear?" Wesley asked pointedly, looking suspiciously damp-eyed himself.

"Hell, no!" Gunn said. "It's... allergies! It's real dusty in here. You should do something about that."

"Of course," Wesley said. The four stood, united in emotion, as the vampire carried his immortal seer up the stairs for the second time in twenty-four hours. None of them noticed the small red-haired figure slip silently out of the front door, her work complete.

Another figure hovered around the front of the hotel, the natural disapproval in his expression warring with contentment at a job completed.

"I suppose you're going to take all the credit for that," he said, wafting a hand airily in the direction of the hotel.

Fleur paused. "I've only one thing to say to you, Malachi," she said, leaning in to whisper in his ear. "I told you so." Her laughter continued to echo and ripple in the air as the two figures disappeared into the night.

And somewhere inside the enormous building, two people started the rest of their lives as they meant to go on. Together. Always.


End file.
